“You aren’t wearing this downstairs, Gianna. There are kids around.” “Don’t pretend you’re concerned about traumatized children.” His arm was tight around my waist, his body pressed against my nearly-naked one. My blood was boiling and stealing my breath. He dropped me to my feet in front of my apartment. Took the keys from my hand and, annoyingly, unlocked the door in a single try. “Go find a swimsuit that covers your ass.” I put my hands on my hips defiantly. “Those aren’t in style anymore.” “We both know you don’t follow fashion trends.” “Since when do you regulate what I wear?” “Since
...more
